Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photo: Francisco Collazo
**

The Matador team launched its online travel photography course last week and already students are enrolling and working on their first assignment, one component of which is to introduce themselves and talk about why they’re interested in photography.

One student mentioned that he’s interested in the stories that photos can tell, especially stories about the environment, about marginalized people, and overlooked corners of our world.

I agree that photos can convey urgency, feeling, and acuity that words may lack.

Sometimes, though, photos only start to hint at a story, and without any context at all, you’re only left with questions that rattle around in your brain, unanswered.

Francisco shot this photo in the subway station at Union Square yesterday. I didn’t ask him anything at all about it, but I had a hundred questions. Who is she? Where is she from? What does she think as she pulls on her black mariachi pants, the ones with the silver adornments sewn down the side? How did her group come together? How much money do they make? How does she feel when people stop to take in the whole scene? Or when they walk by, pretending not to notice or trying to block out the sound? What is she feeling at this exact moment?

You can see more photos of the mariachi–and of other interesting New Yorkers– in our New York People set on Flickr.

Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photos: Francisco Collazo
**

The Statue of Liberty is definitely NOT an overlooked place in New York, and it makes an appearance in my MatadorTrips article, “What NOT to Do in New York City.” You’ll have to click over to find out why (and what I recommend instead).

And if you take my advice to skip the Statue, you can get a much better view of Liberty here:

Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photo: Francisco Collazo
**

Municipal buildings are like cemeteries, I think: We tend to avoid them unless we have some inescapable business there.

I don’t know why this is, though; as with cemeteries, the buildings where formal business is conducted tend to harbor ambitious elements of art and design that are rarely in evidence–at least not in quite the same way–in our more quotidian spaces.

Last night, we attended a talk sponsored by the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council as part of its “Access Restricted” series of “nomadic lectures” about the law. The setting was the New York County Supreme Court, a grand, landmarked building whose entryway leads into a rotunda painted with a mural depicting seminal figures and moments in legal history.

Rotundas… you’ve probably never seen a travel article about them, but this is at least the second one I’ve seen (the first being the rotunda of the Capitol building in San Juan, Puerto Rico, a gorgeous mosaic also depicting an epic sweep of history) that has caught my attention and held it, almost distracting me from whatever I was supposed to be doing. There’s so much happening in this mural; I could look at this tiny detail of the scene unfolding beneath Lincoln’s leg for at least a day:

There’s no drum roll and take-away here. Just this: don’t overlook the obvious in your search to find something extraordinary.

More photos of the Court are here.

Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photo: Francisco Collazo
**

To be fair, we can’t complain about the winter.

The almost daily blue skies made the hard season bearable.

But still.

The sound of bird song outside the living room window last week and the crocus and daffodils pushing their way through the soil were welcome signs of the new season.

We opened the window, sat Mariel on the sill and watched as birds flitted in and out of the tangle of ivy that creeps up the wall.

Laura Kammermeier said this is a red-winged blackbird. I don’t know how I’ve lived 32 years without noticing one.

We’re not the only ones with spring on the brain. Here are a few friends meditating on the seasonal change:

Elizabeth Eslami: Birds and Other Miracles of (Western) America

Lola Akinmade: Postcard: Palm Fronds and Psalms

Linda Golden: My First Spring in Two Years

Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photos: Francisco Collazo
**

I may be wrong, but I’m willing to bet that most visitors to Washington, D.C. don’t make it across the river to Anacostia.

Though it’s designated as an historic neighborhood, Anacostia is down on its heels. As we were driving through, Francisco said, “No way! That guy’s selling crack in broad daylight!” And then, just up the hill, “That guy’s carrying a gun! I just saw him wrap it up in a plastic bag.”

Anacostia’s difficulties are well-documented. The neighborhood has been described as one of the “most impoverished and polluted neighborhoods in America,” and as you look at debris that blackens the shore of the Anacostia River, you’re not inclined to dispute that claim.

But like any place, if you’re willing to look hard enough, you’ll find something to counteract the narrative of devastation and destitution.

In Anacostia, that something is Smithsonian’s Anacostia Community Museum. It may seem an unlikely place for a museum, just a few paces up the hill from a community recreation center, its parking lot marked with the sign “Park Here At Your Own Risk.” We wouldn’t have known about it had I not read about the museum in Smithsonian Magazine.

The reason we detoured through Anacostia on our recent drive from South Carolina to New York was because we wanted to see the exhibit “The African Presence in Mexico: From Yanga to the Present.” Francisco and I have long nurtured our mutual interest in all things Afro-Latin, and were excited to see a US museum take a similar interest.

We were full of ourselves when we arrived, fairly certain we knew a great deal of what there is to know about the African diaspora in Mexico, sure, at least, that this general interest exhibit wouldn’t be likely to teach us much new.

We were wrong.

The exhibit, in both English and Spanish, is exceptional, simultaneously ambitious in what it wants to convey and concisely curated in order to deliver maximum impact. Whether you know a lot about the subject or nothing at all, the exhibit is presented in such a way that both types of visitors will be deeply satisfied.

Highlights included large-format photographs by Agustin Casasola, with this photo of a female Afro-Mexican soldier from the Revolutionary Period so compelling that I would have bought it on complete impulse had it been at a gallery (and had I had the money).

Other take-aways?

*The Underground Railroad actually had at least one stop in Mexico. The first “freedom station” on the Underground Railroad that has been identified outside the US is that of Mazamitla in the state of Jalisco. Slaves who escaped and fled to Mexico were given citizenship by the Mexican government and were granted land rights in Coahuila, where a significant Afro-Mexican community remains today.

*The Mexican Postal Service issued a stamp honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. a full 10 years before the US postal service did so.

*Langston Hughes wrote his first piece of published prose in Mexico- Mexico Games. But damned if I can find it in print anywhere.

The exhibit runs through July 4, 2010, which somehow seems fitting. Entry is free and the museum is open 7 days a week.